One Last Day
by Violet-Pears
Summary: 'Could you do this? One last day with your beloved. Which day would you choose'


**Hey, first Doctor Who fic. Not my best work but there you go. More of a spur-of-the-moment-I-don't-care-how-crap-it-is thing.**

_'Could you do this? One last day with your beloved. Which day would you choose?'_

It shouldn't have bothered him. It really shouldn't have. That part of his life was long gone. He had sworn to not look back upon what had happened. He had sworn to move on. His last incarnation was the past. He had a great life with Amy and Rory.

There was always that dull pain in his chest though. Whenever something seemingly meaningless was said or done he would feel a pang in his chest. He was able to keep the memories down, on a normal day. This was not a normal day. It was Christmas day. A day that was supposed to be filled with joy.

He stared up at the sky. The pang in his chest returning. He watched the sight before him, feeling more emotionally than he had in a long time.

"January first, two thousand and five."

He hadn't even realised he had said it aloud. He got two strange looks off of his companions.

"What about it?" Amy asked.

He turned around to face Amy, only just realising that he had spoken aloud. It was not something he did often. He needed to focus on something else, take his mind off of it all before the memories he tried so hard to keep locked away, resurfaced.

He gave his two companions a small, rather sad smile. "I was answering a question I was asked earlier." He replied, knowing it would never be enough for Amy. She would dig and dig until she found out the entire story.

"And what question was that?" She demanded as he walked into the TARDIS.

He headed straight for the controls, desperate for something to tinker with. It was a few more minutes before he turned to the not-so-patiently waiting woman. He looked at the two of them. His new closest friends.

"Could you do this? One last day with your beloved. Which day would you choose?" He quoted Kazran's question.

Amy looked at him steadily for a moment, the question settling in her mind before she asked yet another question. "So you would choose January first, two thousand and five. Wh..."

He cut her off, shaking his head slightly. "No Amy. I already chose it. Been there, done that. Spent one last day with her, even though that last day was really only a matter of three minutes, if that. Then back in the TARDIS, I regenerate then boom, I've met little Pond." He was getting more and more agitated. The emotions he tried so hard to get rid of, begging to be felt.

Amy and Rory had, of course, been told all about regeneration. He had decided it may be best if he started to tell his companions about it. Too many times had he had to convince someone it really was him after he had regenerated.

"Doctor... What happened to her?"

It was Rory this time. Wasn't a huge surprise. They were both curious. Humans always were. Wanted to know more. Wanted to know it all. He had met enough humans to know it was a trait they were all born with. They were all so curious wanting, needing to know more.

"I lost her. She's locked away, in another Universe."

And all the memories came flooding back. How he had sent her away with a duplicate of himself, telling her to be happy. He had left her after her promises of forever. She had almost torn apart two Universes to get to him and he sent her back, with a hard-copy. He regretted it. Wished he had brought her back with him, it had been selfish, not wanting to deal with his copy.

She had promised forever and that is all he had wanted. Forever, with her. His precious pink and yellow human. He had let her go. She was gone and it was all his fault. She had not been happy in the parallel Universe and he had sent her back with his duplicate in hopes that she led a happy life.

"Well why don't you just go and get her?" Rory asked.

The Doctor looked at him, wishing that it was just as simple as going to get her.

**So I'll be taking prompts on my tumbler (I need an excuse to use it) and whatever prompts I get I'll write decent fics not spur of the moment rubbish: **


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